The Don's Dark Obsession

CHAPTER TWO

DANTE'S POV

The girl hadn't spoken in twenty minutes. She sat in the passenger seat staring out the window like she was memorizing the route. Smart. Most people in her position would be too panicked to think strategically. Sofia Marino was either very intelligent or completely broken.

Probably both.

I turned onto the private road leading to my estate. The gates opened automatically, triggered by the sensor in my car. Sofia's eyes widened slightly as we passed through, taking in the high walls and security cameras. Good. She should understand exactly what kind of place this was.

When the house came into view, she went very still. The mansion was designed to intimidate, three stories of stone and glass, sprawling grounds, enough space to house twenty people comfortably. I'd bought it from a real estate developer who'd pissed off the wrong people. Got it for half what it was worth.

I parked in front of the main entrance. Marco's car was already here, which meant my brother had ignored my text telling him to stay away tonight. Of course he had.

"Get out," I told Sofia.

She obeyed without argument, pulling her pathetic duffle bag from the backseat. The thing looked like it might fall apart if she breathed on it wrong. Everything about her screamed poverty, worn jeans, faded jacket, shoes that had seen better years. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. No makeup. No jewelry. Nothing that suggested she'd tried to make herself presentable.

Why would she? She hadn't known she was being collected tonight.

"This way." I walked toward the entrance without checking if she followed. I could hear her footsteps behind me, quick and light, trying to keep up.

The front door opened before I reached it. Victor, my head of security, nodded at me and didn't even glance at Sofia. Professional as always.

"Mr. Russo. Your brother is in the study."

"Of course he is." I walked through the marble foyer toward the west wing. Sofia's footsteps had stopped. I turned to find her standing in the entrance, staring up at the chandelier like she'd never seen one before. She probably hadn't.

"Are you planning to stand there all night?" I asked.

She flinched and hurried to catch up. I noticed she was careful not to touch anything, keeping her arms close to her body like she was afraid to leave fingerprints. The house had that effect on people who weren't used to wealth. It made them feel small.

I opened the study door and found Marco pouring himself a drink from my private collection. My younger brother looked up with that easy smile he used on everyone.

"The prodigal brother returns," Marco said. Then he saw Sofia behind me and his smile faded. "Dante. What's this?"

"This is Sofia Marino. Antonio Marino's daughter. She's here for her father's debt."

Marco's expression darkened. He set down his glass and looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "You actually brought her here? I thought you were joking about that."

"Do I joke about collections?"

"No, but you also don't personally handle two-hundred-thousand-dollar debts. You send collectors. You don't bring random women home."

"She's not random. She's collateral." I walked to the bar and poured myself a scotch. "Her father offered her as payment. I accepted."

"Jesus Christ, Dante." Marco ran his hand through his hair. "Do you hear yourself? You can't just take someone's daughter."

"I didn't take her. She came willingly."

"Because what choice did she have?" Marco turned to Sofia, his voice gentler. "I'm Marco. Dante's brother. I apologize for……"

"Don't apologize to her," I interrupted. "She's not a guest. She's here because her father couldn't pay his debts. That's not my problem or yours."

Sofia spoke for the first time since we'd arrived. "Where will I sleep?"

Her voice was quiet but steady. No trembling. No tears. Just a practical question from someone who'd accepted her situation and moved on to logistics. It irritated me more than crying would have.

"East wing," I said. "Second floor. Victor will show you."

"And what exactly am I supposed to do here?" Sofia asked. "You said we'd figure out terms. What terms?"

I studied her over the rim of my glass. She stood with her bag clutched in front of her like a shield, but her chin was up and she met my eyes directly. Most people couldn't hold my gaze for more than a few seconds. Sofia didn't look away.

"You'll work. The estate needs staff. You'll earn your keep until the debt is settled."

"How long will that take? Two hundred thousand dollars at minimum wage would be……"

"You think I'm paying you minimum wage?" I laughed, sharp and humorless. "You're not an employee. You're collateral. You work because I tell you to work. You stay because I haven't decided to let you go. You don't get paid. You don't get days off. You exist at my convenience until I decide the debt is satisfied."

The color drained from her face. "That's slavery."

"That's business." I finished my drink and set the glass down hard enough to make her jump. "Your father made a deal. I'm honoring that deal. If you have a problem with the terms, you should've been born to a better man."

Marco stepped forward. "Dante, this is….."

"None of your concern," I cut him off. "Go home, Marco. This doesn't involve you."

"The hell it doesn't. You can't just….."

"I can do whatever I want. This is my house. My organization. My decision." I turned back to Sofia. "Victor will show you to your room. You start work tomorrow at six. Someone will tell you what needs to be done. Don't be late."

Sofia stared at me for a long moment. I watched emotions flicker across her face, fear, anger, desperation. Then that same blankness from earlier settled over her features like a mask. She was hiding again. Disappearing into herself.

"Fine," she said quietly.

"Fine?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say? You've made it clear I don't have choices here. So fine. I'll work. I'll do whatever you tell me to do. Because like you said, I should've been born to a better man." Her voice was flat, emotionless. "Is there anything else, or can I go now?"

The question should've sounded submissive. Instead it was almost mocking, like she was humoring me. Like she'd already dismissed me as someone worth arguing with.

I didn't like it.

"Watch your tone," I said softly. "I'm not your drunk father. You don't get to speak to me however you want."

"I apologize." The words were correct but completely empty. "May I please go to my room now, Mr. Russo?"

"It's not your room. It's my room that I'm allowing you to use. Remember that."

"Yes, Mr. Russo."

I gestured to Victor, who'd been standing silently by the door. "Show her the east wing. Second floor. The blue room."

Victor nodded and gestured for Sofia to follow him. She picked up her bag and walked out without another word. No thank you. No goodbye. Just gone.

Marco waited until the door closed before rounding on me. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Collecting a debt."

"Bullshit. You've written off bigger losses than two hundred thousand. You didn't need to bring her here."

He was right, but I wasn't about to admit it. The truth was, I didn't know why I'd come personally. Why I'd brought her back instead of sending collectors to break her father's legs and call it even. Something about Antonio Marino offering his daughter like she was furniture had bothered me. Made me curious.

"She was offered as payment," I said. "I took the payment. It's simple business."

"Nothing about this is simple. You brought a civilian into your home, Dante. A girl who has nothing to do with our world. What happens when people find out you have a weakness?"

"She's not a weakness. She's property."

"You keep telling yourself that." Marco grabbed his jacket from the chair. "But I know you. And this? This is different. You're never this hands-on with collections. You're interested in her."

"I'm interested in getting my money's worth."

"Right." Marco walked to the door, then paused. "Just remember that girls like her break easily in our world. And when they break, it's messy. I hope whatever curiosity you're satisfying is worth it."

He left before I could respond. I poured another drink and stood at the window, looking out over the grounds. Somewhere in this house, Sofia Marino was unpacking her pathetic bag in a room worth more than she'd earn in five years.

I should feel nothing about it. She was just another asset. Another piece on the board. Her father owed me and now she'd pay. Simple transaction.

So why couldn't I stop thinking about the way she'd looked at Antonio? That moment when hope died in her eyes and left nothing behind? I'd seen people lose everything before. Seen them beg, break, crumble. But Sofia had just gone quiet. Accepted it. Like she'd been expecting betrayal her whole life.

My phone buzzed. Isabella. My mother's text was brief: *Heard you brought someone home. We need to talk.*

Of course she'd already heard. Isabella had eyes everywhere. I ignored the message and finished my drink.

Tomorrow Sofia would learn what working for me actually meant. She'd learn that quiet acceptance wouldn't save her from anything. That this house, this life, this world, it would eat her alive if she didn't toughen up fast.

And if she broke?

Well. Marco was right about one thing. It would be messy.

My phone buzzed again. This time it was Victor:

“The girl is asking if the doors lock from the inside.”

I smiled despite myself and typed back: “Tell her no.”